


Empty Space

by Iseniich



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Gen, injury fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 11:10:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14211867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iseniich/pseuds/Iseniich
Summary: Green’s answer to a summons for help does not end well for him. Warning for severe physical injury and depression.





	Empty Space

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in an AU where Red never captured Mewtwo, and Green pays the price for that.

After six months, Green could honestly say he was… okay. Not great. Not terrible. Just… Okay. To most people, the fact that it took him so long was a bit of an annoyance to them. His gaze lifts from his paperwork, to the stack of paperwork that had been left sitting in his office awaiting his signature. Slowly, and with a sigh, Green moves it clumsily over, missing his right arm more than ever. After the disaster that had been his emergency request, Green had been struggling to readjust to his work at the Gym.

It wasn’t like things had changed much since he was away. His gym had retained the same spinning panels - which he’d been forced to change so he didn’t end up throwing up all over his trainers - the same trainers, the same… everything.

Only Green had come back an empty shell with a missing limb, and half of the league calling for his removal. His gaze shifts dully away from the sleeve as it hangs empty, taunting him in the depths of his mind, and forces his fingers into signing the next piece of paper he could reach. Green looks back down at his paperwork, stomach churning uncomfortably.

It takes him an awfully long time to get through all of his paperwork, mind still sluggish and unsteady. It’s been days since his last medical appointment, and he can feel the ache that tells him that he’s pushing himself too far come much too soon. Slowly, Green releases his Eevee, his best girl giving an inquisitive chirp, touching her nose to his chest, flattening her ear over his heart a second later. He gives her a smile, clearly touched by her fond, loving concern. Abandoning his pen as a lost cause, he reaches down with a shaking arm, scooping her up to snuggle with her.

“Hey baby girl,” He coos, feeling his body relax as she lavishes him with happy yips and nuzzles, climbing over his shoulders and stretching out luxuriously. He deposits the paperwork into the  _done_  bin, standing with shaky legs, but feeling vaguely more accomplished.

His trainers look at him oddly when he passes, before greeting his Eevee with delayed recognition. The days Green had worn his thick leather jacket were gone, the fur collar he had used to hide from the world no longer a help when he could no longer hide something larger than a child’s bruised ego.

He manages to get home without any issues, occasionally calling out to the few neighbors of the quiet apartment building he lived in with stilted, but friendly greetings. The children from down in building ten, block four had left him a gift again, and he smiles as he takes it warmly from their fingers, kneels down so Eevee can lick their faces. They giggle and cover their faces, before saying their goodbyes. He tucks the package under his arm, fumbling for his keys (something to fix - they’d have to stay on his left side from now on, he thinks.) when he notices someone in the foyer. The sleepless gaze that meets him head on is oddly familiar.

“Yo. Lance said you’d be ‘ere. ‘e didn’t say you were a nutjob who was insane ‘nough to work a sixteen ‘our day after losin’ a fucking arm.” Green flinches, the crass response making him stare, wide-eyed.

Whoever he was, he was the most blunt person Green had ever met. The man sticks out his left hand, and Green raises a sardonic eyebrow. Normally, Green would have taken it, but with an armful of mail under an arm, he didn’t bother to accept it.

“M’name’s Bill.” The man says at last, dropping his hand and using it to scratch the back of his head. “Lance wanted me ta see about gettin’ ya an arm. He whines like a mother fuck ova’ how terrible the reports were.” Green stares at him. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to say to that.

“Uh… Do you want a cup of tea?” He offers lamely. (What the fuck does a guy do when some random stranger he vaguely recognizes starts blurting things like this out.)

“Yeah, could do with a cuppa,” Bill agrees amiably, and Green wonders briefly to himself if he’d gone mad. Eevee settles back down, and Green tilts his head to the side to touch noses with her.

“Okay… This way,” He decides on, shaking his head. He’ll call Lance later.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [Seniichi](seniichi.tumblr.com)


End file.
